Did they ever deserve what you gave or did they just receive because you did not know the value of your own worth? Had they known, like you, would things have stayed the same or would something else have been brought forth? To trade or to gift, did you know the best techniques? Or had you worked hard to, in their minds, being forth a shift?
Were you ever able to show what they truly meant for you? Did they know of the places to touch that would, in your core, strike true? Perhaps they could prove to you that all you’d love for you they’d do.
Perhaps I will learn how to be better, tomorrow, than I am today.
Maybe I’ll be a little more honest about where my mind stays.
Truthfully, all that I can hope is to put out the best version out there and in my convictions, never sway.
It’s doubtful that they ever knew how inside of you trickled a tiny stream of phrases promising without delivery an action that never arrived. It’s dubious that they ever imagined that the tiny rivulet would become secret floodwaters within you that one day would drown out all ideas pertaining to them as the surge broke down the wooden posts only half-blocking their phrases from the machines within your head that processed the wood into truth. Little did they all know that within you were compartmentalizations of them that became a burden too heavy to hear by the cabinets inside of you that held their weight. Shocked will they be when the contents fall to the floor and the flood eroded the wooden structure of the homes they built within you with your permission. Fortunate will you be when all that is broken is washed away leaving you with a clean slate to build your own walls.